


Unfamiliar Territory

by LoWritesThings



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, chasing wolves, frienemies to lovers, two idiots in a tent refusing to fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoWritesThings/pseuds/LoWritesThings
Summary: Brienne's heart thudded at the thought of it: journeying well past the Wall in search of direwolves, a species so rarely spotted in the wild that they almost seemed mythical. If she got the money, she was going to spend three months in the far North, camping out and hoping to gain the trust of a pack so that the world might finally come to know more about how they actually lived. She’d be so wrapped up with her observations and her photography that there wouldn’t be time to think about Hyle, or her empty apartment, or the fact that no one blessed with eyesight was likely to take her home, even for a one-night stand.“Oh, Brienne,” Margaery sighed before laughing softly in exasperated affection. “One of these days, somebody is going to fascinate you more than your wild beasts.”(Or; Jaime and Brienne stuck in a tent beyond the Wall for months with nothing but a pack of direwolves for company, what could go wrong?)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a National Geographic docu-series called "Kingdom of the White Wolf." It's a four-part series and I recommend it if you're bored in these days of social distancing. It's on Disney+ for anyone going through official channels.
> 
> I'm not going to commit to an update schedule for this because I've got twin toddlers and a one month old baby at home and my personal schedule is pretty up in the air, so I don't always get to write as much as I'd like. I'll do my best to update once a week, but I'll post more often if I can manage it.
> 
> Also, please suspend your disbelief a little bit when it comes to funding Brienne's expedition. I (very obviously) made that bit up as I went along after not finding much about the process after the grant has been submitted. It's not too important to the story...the real action will happen when they get beyond the Wall, so I hope you'll forgive my fudging over the details here.
> 
> Thank you for lending me your time!

“There’s only one way to get over a man, you know,” Margaery Tyrell commented as she and Brienne fought their way through a crowded King’s Landing pub toward a blessedly unoccupied corner. Brienne was grateful to be behind her friend: Margaery wouldn’t see how she rolled her eyes.

“It’s to get under another one,” the smaller woman continued, also unaware that Brienne was mouthing those very words right along with her. It was a familiar lecture, only this was the first time it had been aimed at Brienne. Normally Loras was the recipient of this worldly advice. He was breaking hearts and having his own broken every other week, though his new romance with Renly seemed to be going well. Brienne had never had her heart broken, despite having just been dumped by her first serious boyfriend.

If she was being honest, Hyle ending things had been something of a relief. He’d hated her career, hated that she traveled so much, hated that she had so little interest in domesticity. Brienne loved and believed in her work too much, and perhaps had cared for Hyle too little, to consider giving it up. Being a conservation and wildlife photographer wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured when she’d gotten her biology degree, but it had become a passion.  _ Planetos Geographic _ sent her all over the world to capture images of elusive or endangered species, which meant months camping out in the field with little more than her photography equipment. It was thrilling work and suited her love of the outdoors perfectly.

Which hadn’t suited Hyle at all. His girlfriend should be around more often, she should want a house and a family in return for the great favor he would bestow on her for being willing to provide them when her options were so limited. Brienne’s stomach rolled slightly just at the thought of it. She truly was better off without him.

“I don’t really need a cure, Marg,” she said to her friend when they’d reached their corner. “And I don’t really want to go home with some stranger.”

“Well, how would you know? Have you ever tried it?” Margaery asked with a devilish little smile.

“No,” Brienne admitted, “but it doesn’t sound very appealing.”

“Just...don’t let yourself be lonely, okay Brienne?” Margaery’s eyes were suddenly sincere, full of the concern she usually didn’t allow others to see. “Hyle wasn’t right for you, I think we all knew that. But someone wonderful will come along if you just keep putting yourself out there.”

“Maybe,” Brienne agreed, unwilling to argue with her friend. “But in the meantime, there’s plenty to do. I might not even be in town for very long, if my grant gets approved.” Her heart thudded at the thought of it: journeying well past the Wall in search of direwolves, a species so rarely spotted in the wild that they almost seemed mythical. If she got the money, she was going to spend three months in the far North, camping out and hoping to gain the trust of a pack so that the world might finally come to know more about how they actually lived. She’d be so wrapped up with her observations and her photography that there wouldn’t be time to think about Hyle, or her empty apartment, or the fact that no one blessed with eyesight was likely to take her home, even for a one-night stand.

“Oh, Brienne,” Margaery sighed before laughing softly in exasperated affection. “One of these days, somebody is going to fascinate you more than your wild beasts.”

Brienne’s phone buzzed before she could reply, which was probably for the best. She might have said something bitter about essentially being a wild beast herself, and that would only have made Margaery frown. She smiled at the encouraging text message she’d just recieved from Catelyn Stark. Apart from being one of the oldest families in the North, Catelyn was in charge of a lot of charitable organizations that involved conservation and habitat protection. If Brienne’s grant came through, she would be the one helping Brienne to organize the equipment and contacts needed to survive the three long months she’d spend living beyond the wall.

**_Waiting with baited breath to hear about your grant! - C_ **

**_You and me both,_** Brienne typed back, still smiling. **_I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything._**

Catelyn sent back a series of thumbs-up emojis and Brienne slipped her phone back into her pocket. Who needed men when she’d soon be surrounded by direwolves?

“So which of the wild things are you chasing this time?” Margaery asked. “Snarks? Grumpkins?”

Brienne shot her an affectionately annoyed look. “Direwolves,” she replied. She knew her face was lit up with excitement because she could feel the way her smile was stretching wide across her face. “There’s so little in the way of reliable information, but if I can get up there and embed myself into a pack...well, everything we know about them might be rewritten. And if I can get some decent photographs or video? It’s hardly ever been done before.”

Margaery smiled a little wryly at Brienne’s enthusiasm. “No wonder Hyle was dust. I don’t think you ever looked that excited about spending time with him.”

A guilty flush spread over Brienne’s cheeks as she realized her friend was right, but Margaery laid a consoling hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m not judging. He was a hard guy to get excited about. And you should be with someone that excites you. Otherwise what’s the point?”

Brienne doubted that romantic excitement was in her future, and the thought sent a pang through her the same way it always did, but she was getting better at dismissing it. It was easier to ignore the quiet longing for that sort of intimate connection as she buried herself deeper and deeper into her work. She opened her mouth to respond to Margaery--though what she’d say was still a mystery--when her phone buzzed again.

**_congrats wench_ ** was all the text said, and Brienne found herself frowning down at her phone’s screen. It was from Jaime Lannister (the use of  _ wench  _ was a dead giveaway), but why would he be texting her a congratulatory message, unless…?

**_What do you know?_** she typed back as her heart began thumping much too quickly in her chest.

There was a pause, then three dots popped up and bobbed along the bottom of their text exchange. A few seconds later, the dots disappeared. She gripped her phone when they appeared again after a short pause, but whatever he’d been writing back must not have satisfied him because they vanished again.

“Ass,” she mumbled under her breath, and Margaery--who had been watching this all with mild amusement--grinned and said, “Oh, I know who  _ that  _ must be.”

Brienne ignored this and all the implications that came with it, still watching for a reply from Lannister. He was one of  _ Planetos Geographic’ _ s most generous charitable contributors and as it turned out, something of a wildlife enthusiast. She hadn’t pegged him as the type, but he frequently visited  _ PG _ ’s explorers and biologists in order to stay on top of the latest in grant applications, expeditions and conservation efforts.

It should have endeared him to her, but she found him insufferable. Proud, vain, and sneering, too gorgeous to bother with something as pleblian as good manners, Jaime had instantly rubbed her the wrong way and he’d managed to stay on her bad side even after a year of vague acquaintance. Perhaps he was used to people deciding he was wonderful based off of his beauty, but that sort of thing had never impressed Brienne. Besides, between the rumors about his step-sister and the fact that he’d argued self-defense and been acquitted of killing Aerys Targaryen--a frail and mentally ill man--were two things that made her stomach churn whenever she thought of them.

Margaery seemed to think that one day, she and Jaime were going to have passionate hate-sex and then discover that they were madly in love with each other, but Brienne had told her in no uncertain terms that she’d rather pull out her own fingernails. Margaery only smiled every time she said it and replied that, “the lady doth protest too much.”

Finally the phone rang. Brienne jerked it up to her face and tried to ignore the way her palms were beginning to slicken with nervous sweat.

“Don’t tease,” she said before he could even get out a greeting, “just tell me what you know.”

“I like a woman that cuts right to the chase,” Jaime replied, and he was  _ definitely  _ going to tease her if the amused note in his velvety-smooth voice was any indication.

“Jaime,” she warned, but the effect was ruined by the tremor in her voice.

“Oh, you’re no fun at all, wench.” She could hear his stupid, smug smile. He paused again and then said, “Your expedition has been funded.”

She’d been funded! Relief and excitement flooded through Brienne, and she gave an elated little wiggle in her seat that made Margaery giggle. Then another thought occurred to her. “Wait--how would you know whether or not I got funding? I applied for a grant through KLU.”

“Perhaps it would surprise you to know that my father is on KLU’s board of trustees? No, I’m sure it  _ wouldn’t  _ surprise you. And I’m sure it won’t surprise you to find out that KLU wasn’t going to approve the grant. So I took matters into my own hands.”

_ Oh good gods, what does  _ that  _ mean?  _ Brienne wondered, resisting the urge to groan out loud by the skin of her teeth.

“I went to the Lannister Foundation and got them to release the funds. I imagine Catelyn Stark will be in touch any moment,” he added. “She doesn’t approve, but she didn’t turn the money down either. Not even when I put a condition on it.”

“You put a condition on a  _ charitable contribution? _ ” Brienne said. Jaime chuckled at what he’d no doubt term her naivety.

“Of course I did,” he replied. He sounded too pleased with himself by far, and a frisson of discomfort ran down her spine.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked him.

His grin was back, she could just tell. There was a pause for effect, and then he said, “I made it clear to Catelyn that if she wanted the money, she’d have to let me tag along.”

Brienne’s jaw dropped. “And she  _ agreed _ to that?”

“Not without a little hesitation, but I won her over in the end. Don’t sound so horrified, wench! You and me in the wilderness for three months? It’ll be fun.”

Fun? It was going to be a godsdamned nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s beautiful,” he said, his velvet voice pouring right into her ears thanks to her own headset. The gods really had been unfairly generous with his physical attributes.
> 
> “Yes,” she agreed, wishing she didn’t feel so tongue-tied. She forced her eyes away from his face and back to the scenery. “And deadly, if we’re not careful.”
> 
> “I’m not worried.” His grin turned mischievous. “You’re far too decent a person to let me die up here, no matter how much I annoy you.”
> 
> She rolled her eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

“This isn’t going to be some fancy camping trip,” Brienne argued, ignoring Margaery’s raised eyebrows and suggestive smile. “I’m going to be living rough in a tent on the tundra with no luxuries, nothing but camera equipment and essential supplies. And what would you do for three months? You’re not a scientist.”

“Three months alone with Jaime Lannister in a tent? He’s annoying but even I could come up with a few activities you could do to stay busy. And warm,” Margaery whispered with a wink. Brienne rolled her eyes at the other woman even as a few very suggestive images flashed through her imagination.

_Stop that,_ she told herself firmly. She’d end up strangling him long before they ever fell into bed together, as if that was even a possibility. Brienne was not confident or sexy enough to start some casual fling and if she had been, Jaime certainly wouldn’t have been her first choice. Right?

_ Of course not,  _ her rational side snapped, and then Jaime’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to make myself useful,” he said, his voice irritatingly self-assured. “I’m going, wench. You’ll just have to get used to the idea.”

“There’s no way this is—” Brienne started, but Jaime hung up before she could finish her sentence. A second later, a text popped up:  **_just go celebrate wench g’nite & c u @ winterfell_ **

Brienne managed not to curse—barely. Beside her, Margaery was sipping a very elaborate margarita and grinning.

“If I were to keep score, I’d say that Lannister won that one,” she commented lightly.

“We’ll see,” Brienne growled before reaching for her own drink. He may have thought that he’d just gotten exactly what he wanted, but she wasn’t about to sit back and let him have his way like the spoiled child he was. Even if he did manage to make it all the way out to the field with her, she’d make the experience so challenging and uncomfortable that he’d soon be on his way back to King’s Landing with his tail tucked between his legs.ll she’d have to do was outlast him, and she was certain she could do that.

“Oh, let’s forget about men and celebrate. I can’t believe you’re going to leave me alone in this horrible city for three months, by the way.” Margaery clinked her glass against Brienne’s. “Congratulations, you clever thing!”

Brienne grinned at her friend, letting her annoyance with Jaime Lannister melt away as she pictured herself up in the North, chasing wolves to her heart’s content. “I’ll get next round,” she said, and let Margaery talk her onto the dance floor.

* * *

The land below them was vast, and cold, and empty. The vegetation was sparse and tough. Huge rocks broke out of the ground, featuring natural dens that were probably the only refuge from the winds that whistled across these high, barren plains. The water was beautifully clear and snow-fed, and it probably felt like ice. Brienne’s eyes drank it all in from her perch in the helicopter that had been chartered to bring her up here. The dens were the only potential sign of the direwolves: newborn cubs and their mothers would need to shelter in them for the first few months of life, relying on the rest of their pack for food and protection. But from the sky, she saw no trace of the elusive animals.

Jaime shifted in the seat beside hers, rolling his shoulders under the harness. How he managed to make the headset, complete with its huge headphones, look fashionable was beyond her. His eyes met hers and crinkled into a boyish smile. Her heart thumped hard in response: he really  _ was _ gorgeous, and for once his grin was genuine. She felt her own lips curve upward as she absorbed his frank excitement.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, his velvet voice pouring right into her ears thanks to her own headset. The gods really had been unfairly generous with his physical attributes.

“Yes,” she agreed, wishing she didn’t feel so tongue-tied. She forced her eyes away from his face and back to the scenery. “And deadly, if we’re not careful.”

“I’m not worried.” His grin turned mischievous. “You’re far too decent a person to let me die up here, no matter how much I annoy you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

He only laughed and leaned closer to his own window, drinking in the sight of the Frostfangs. Brienne took that opportunity to turn to the pilot and ask to land. She’s just spotted a cluster of caves and a bit of greenery—signs that a wolf pack had cached food nearby and the decaying carcass had fertilized the ground—and it seemed like as good a place to begin her search as any.

As soon as the skids hit the ground, Brienne was out of her seat and off of the helicopter. Her fingers were already working the lens cap off of her camera just in case this was the right spot. Meanwhile, her eyes traced the immediate surroundings for signs of recent activity: chunks of fur or tracks, even small shards of cracked bone would indicate that this den was active.

“What are we looking for?” Jaime asked as he followed her. His voice was pitched low, but Brienne shushed him anyway. It was harder to concentrate when he spoke, and she didn’t have the time or patience at the moment to teach him how to track. Maybe— _ maybe— _ she’d give him a lesson once they’d found their wolves. But if he was as annoying about that as he was about everything else, it would probably be a disaster.

Her heart thumped hard when she finally spotted a wolf track, but her half-second of elation died just as quickly. It was an old print, perhaps even from the previous summer, and one look inside the den told her why.

“The floor is completely iced over,” she said to Jaime, trying not to huff in frustration. “No way a mother wolf would care for newborn pups in there, they’d freeze. We’ll have to find another spot.”

Jaime reached into the den’s entrance and felt the ice with a frown. “Think they’ll all be like this?” he asked. Brienne lifted her shoulders in a shrug, trying not to start worrying about frozen dens. The wolves were here, she just needed to be patient and thorough.

“A wolf can pup out in the open, but she won’t unless there are absolutely no other options. She can also dig out her own den, but that’s a long shot too. We’ll keep searching from the sky. I’m sure we’ll find something,” she said. He was staring at her in mild surprise, a fact which she tried to ignore as she trekked back toward the waiting helicopter.

“You really know your stuff,” he commented as he trailed after her.

She felt a flash of annoyance at that. “Of course I do. What did you think I was coming up here to do, take a vacation?”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I just...I thought you were a photographer, not some sort of wolf-whisperer.”

She spun on him. “I  _ am _ a photographer. I’m also a biologist and in university I minored in anthropology. Would you like to hear more of my credentials?”

Jaime’s expression darkened. “Relax, Tarth. I’m not questioning your capabilities. I just didn’t expect you to be an expert on wolves  _ specifically. _ ”

“Fine.” Brienne turned away again and turned back toward the helicopter. She wasn’t sure why she’d bristled so quickly, except that she was thoroughly sick of people thinking that because she was big and quiet, she was also somehow less intelligent or less capable. It wasn’t even just that she had been in a male-dominated major and was now in a male-doninated field...she had thought her appearance might have actually helped her in those cases. Instead, she was discovering that she didn’t fit in anywhere and that  _ everyone _ underestimated her until she proved them wrong. Maybe it was unfair for Jaime to take the brunt of all of those feelings, but honestly—she’d come up here to study wolves, surely he’d have expected her to do some research first. And these weren’t her first wolves either, though the ones she’d studied in the Riverlands had been smaller, more timid and too afraid of humans to really compare.

The helicopter lifted off again as soon as both parties were strapped in, and Brienne resumed her search in silence. Or at least she had intended to search in silence—Jaime, she soon realized, didn’t do silence. He began chattering to the pilot, or making general announcements about whatever caught his eye down on the tundra. He tried asking Brienne a personal question or two, but she waved him off and tried hard to keep concentrating on what she was doing.

“Are those musk oxen?” he asked, and that question  _ did _ get her attention. She turned and leaned across his lap to get a view out of the window. Sure enough, there was a herd of huge, shaggy animals grazing on the new summer grasses.

Her brain immediately began spinning, excited by the sight of the herd. These oxen represented food, which meant wolves could be close. Then she spotted a movement from a rocky area not too far from the oblivious herd animals, and her breath froze in her chest. Reflexively, she reached out and grabbed Jaime’s wrist, pointing with her free hand.

“There!” she breathed into the headset. “Do you see? A direwolf!”

He followed her finger and nodded. Then it was his turn to point. “Two direwolves,” he said, correcting her. And he was right: another wolf was prowling through the rocks, observing the herd from a distance so as not to spook them too soon.

“We found them,” she breathed. “Do you think we could follow them?”

The pilot gave a short nod in response. “Just help me keep an eye on them.”

Beneath them, the two wolves seemed to have decided that the herd was too strong for them to approach alone. After pacing nearby, the animals began loping back across the tundra, hopefully on their way to a mother wolf and her cubs. Jaime and Brienne called out directions as the wolves navigated the ground below. Eventually, Brienne spotted the den--a series of small openings in a large outcropping of rocks--and requested that they put down again.

As soon as the helicopter was safely on the ground, Brienne was out and half-jogging toward the outcropping. As she did, she took in the nearby terrain: there was a small river fed by snowmelt, a bit of grassy flatland that would work for the tent, and the stony hills weren’t too high, meaning she could cover a lot of ground without growing too tired if she needed to. They’d have and ATV as well, but she was hoping not to need it until the pup or pups were old enough to venture away from the den.

She slowed down as she approached the wolf family, hanging back a little and staying upwind, so they wouldn’t think she was trying to ambush them. Then she lifted her binoculars and got a better look at the family. A huge sigh left her as she counted them: two adults, a male and female; another male that was about a year old with fur that was completely white; and three romping pups, two males and one female. Quite a pack, all told. Because direwolves were so much larger than their southron brethren, their packs were usually smaller. Six direwolves living together was about what she’d expected, a perfectly average family that made her biologist’s heart sing. They would be an excellent group to study normal wolf behaviours from.

Carefully, she picked her way back across the tundra to the waiting helicopter and grabbed her pack. She gestured for Jaime to join her.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Before we have them fly in our supplies, I want to make sure the wolves will accept us.”

“How do we do that?” Jaime asked as he climbed out of the aircraft. Brienne couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.

“We introduce ourselves.”

* * *

“This is a horrible idea.” Jaime shifted, trying to get more comfortable on the cold, rocky ground. Brienne didn’t bother to answer. Her eyes were on the hilltop above them, where the eldest male of the pack was watching.

“Seriously, Brienne. This is a horrible idea. Have you seen the size of them? What if they’re hungry?”

“We have to gain their trust. Besides, the musk oxen smell much better than you,” she replied. She hid a smile when he gave an offended little huff, but miraculously he didn’t seem to have a comeback ready.

“Here he comes,” she said as the younger wolf, the white one, came at them from around the hill. Jaime slid a little closer to her as the animal circled wide and headed downwind.

“Does he look hungry?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that, wench. It feels very relevant.”

“He’s a direwolf living in the tundra. He’s always hungry.”

“Great. Going to get mauled to death by a hungry wolf before we’ve even had supper. Sounds about right.” He pulled a face and Brienne rolled her eyes at him.

“It was your idea to come. Now, please do shut up. We’re trying to make a good first impression,” she said. Jaime started to toss his hands into the air, then seemed to think better of the idea. No sudden moves around hungry wolves sounded like a good tactic for survival.

“He’s a wolf!” he muttered instead, indignant. Brienne ignored his antics and watched as the wolf paused, taking in their scent from a safe distance.

“Hello, handsome,” she crooned to him. The wolf’s ears pricked at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t spook. Brienne was pleased. Both males were being cautious, but neither seemed nervous or afraid. There was no barking, chuffing or tail tucking. She heard Jaime take in a quick breath as the younger wolf came closer. He clearly hadn’t been expecting a wild animal to be bold enough to approach, but these wolves were the apex predators here. They hadn’t met enough humans to be afraid.

“Amazing, isn’t he? I think I’ll call him Ghost in my notes.”

“You name them?” Jaime asked. She glanced over at him, but he was staring at Ghost with real wonder in his eyes. 

“Just for clarity’s sake.” Which was a bit of a lie: it was hard not to feel a certain affection for the animals, and naming them was an expression of that affection. She’d be damned if she shared that last bit with Jaime Lannister, however. He’d probably tease her about adopting them, and that might lead to jokes about beasts and beast masters. They were the sort of comments she should be used to, but if Jaime were to utter them…

Annoyed with herself, she forced herself to focus on the wolves again. Soon enough, curiosity satisfied, the males drew back and loped off toward the rest of their pack. Brienne climbed to her feet and held out a hand to help Jaime up. The was laughter in his eyes as he reached up to clasp it, but he kept quiet for once.

“Well, wench...how did it go?” he asked as they headed toward the grassier part of the valley floor.

“Good.” Then she surprised them both by laughing. It rang through the clear, cold air like bells, and Jaime, startled but pleased, smiled at her like she’d just handed him a gift. “Very good, if I’m honest. We need to call Catelyn...it’s time for us to make camp.”


	3. Chapter 3

The helicopter hovered over the ground, kicking up small rocks and whipping grass into the air. Jaime threw his arms up in front of his face to deflect the worst of it while Brienne helped to guide the payload to the ground. In this case, the payload was almost ten thousand pounds of supplies and equipment. As it touched down, Jon Snow gestured for Brienne to move back and unclipped the lines tethering it to the aircraft. He and the pilot were going to set down a safe distance away and then come help unpack it all.

“Jon is Catelyn’s nephew,” Brienne shouted over the sound of the rotors. Jaime shrugged.

“I don’t really care,” he shouted back, and he grinned a little when she scowled at him.

As soon as the helicopter pulled away, she began opening the mesh netting that held the supply boxes together. Jaime helped, and they began taking boxes from the top of the stack and organizing them on the ground. Food, medicine, comms, health and comfort, photography equipment—each had a place. The tent canvas looked huge even all folded up, but once everything was packed inside she knew it was going to feel cramped...and that was before sharing it with Jaime.

She worked in steady silence, relishing the physicality of it. Jaime surprised her by working steadily as well, though it was a little too much to hope he’d be silent.

“I think I could move my apartment with fewer boxes than this. What is all this crap?” he asked her.

“We’ll be glad for every bit of it before our time here is done,” Brienne replied. “But to answer your question, it’s a little bit of everything we need to be self sufficient for a few weeks, plus comms and camera equipment. We’re nowhere near civilization so we can’t afford to travel light.”

“Are those parts for an ATV?” he asked as he got to one of the larger bins.

“That’s right.” Brienne looked up at him. “We’ll need it if we’re going to keep up with the wolves.”

“It’s in pieces,” he pointed out.

“Yes.” She hid a smile. “We’ll have to put it together. That doesn’t intimidate you, does it?” she asked innocently.

“Dunno about him, but it sure doesn’t intimidate me,” a booming voice interrupted before Jaime could reply, and Brienne turned her head to see a large redheaded man approaching them. Behind him, Jon struggled to keep up on legs that were much shorter. “And I have to admit I like a woman who knows her way around an engine too.”

Brienne felt her mouth drop open. Jaime glanced her way and she snapped it shut again, but not before she felt a blush creep up her neck.

The man didn’t seem to notice her hesitation. He only grinned at her and held out one huge hand. “I’m Tormund. I’m a pilot working out of the Winter Town station. And—lucky for me—I’ll be flying in all your resupplies.”

“Lucky indeed,” Jaime muttered, and the urge to stomp on his foot was so strong that it almost hurt Brienne to resist it.

“I’m Brienne. That’s Jaime,” she said instead. Jaime flashed the man a smile that was a little too toothy to be friendly. Tormund gave him a nod but kept most of his attention on Brienne.

“If you ever want a night off, give me a call on your sat phone. I’ll fly you back to town and show you a good time. Not much there but the bar’s decent.”

“It isn’t,” Jon warned them. “That place makes dive bars look fancy.”

Brienne had never intended to take Tormund up on the offer, but she was grateful that Jon was trying to give her an out. Still, she made sure she had Tormund’s number anyway. If there was an emergency up here, he was their only way out.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” he said, trying to look deep into her eyes. She kept them just slightly averted and was glad when Jon gave him a hearty shove toward the supplies they still needed to unpack. While they turned to the work, Jaime sidled up to her. He was trying to smirk but there was a dark look in his eyes.

“You took his number down awfully eagerly. Surely you’re not that desperate, Tarth?”

She gave him a withering look. “Keep making smart comments and you’ll be walking back to Winterfell when this expedition is over.”

“He certainly is keen, I’ll give him that.” Jaime considered the man, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Not sure he’d be much of a match for your intellect, though.”

Brienne’s head snapped toward him. Had that been a compliment? Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Jaime ignored her probing look.

“Let’s just...get unpacked,” she said.

* * *

It had taken the better part of the day, but the tent was up and their equipment was inside, stacked or put away neatly so they could get to it quickly if they needed to. And though it was nearing midnight, Brienne wanted to take this opportunity to grab one of her cameras, slap a scope on it and get to work.

“Aren’t you exhausted?” Jaime asked, staring at her like she was some sort of alien.

“I can’t sleep,” she told him. “Besides, we’ll have light for another two hours. The sun doesn’t go down up here for long.” She was rubbing sunscreen on to her face, and she could feel that it was already a little burnt. She’s have to be more careful about covering it up from here on out.

“Don’t wolves sleep?” Jaime asked, and this time he sounded almost plaintive. Brienne’s lips twitched slightly as she fought a smile. It was hard not to take pleasure in his discomfort after she’d tried so hard to warn him against coming up here in the first place.

“Of course. But we’ll have to observe them to find out when.”

“Obstinate wench,” he muttered. Then he threw a hand at the door and said, “Fine! Lead the way.”

They ducked out of the tent flap and emerged onto the tundra once more. The sun was getting lower, but it would only just dip below the horizon before it rose again. The wind was whipping across the stinky grass and Brienne shivered and tried to burrow deeper into her jacket. Then she set off, moving fast over the flatland before trekking up a rocky hill with the same dogged determination she approached everything with. Jaime followed, quiet for once. His face was tucked deep into his hood and half obscured by a scarf. His gloved hands were jammed deep in his pockets. But if he was uncomfortable, he surprised her by not complaining about it. He simply trailed her and watched the land with sharp, curious green eyes.

“Here,” Brienne announced when they’d crested a ridge across from the den. They settled onto the ground, both stretching their long legs out in front of them as Brienne set up the tripod and began attaching the scope, adaptor and camera to it. When that was done, she peered through the sightglass and gave a happy sigh as she caught sight of the youngest pups playing with the oldest male. She’d call him Grey Wind, she decided, and the pups would be Nymeria, Summer and…

“Do you want to name one of the babies?” she asked Jaime. His eyebrows went up.

“Me?”

“Sure. You got us here, you should get to name one.”

He leaned over her lap to look through the scope. “That little one, the one with the darkest fur. He doesn’t have a name yet,” she told him.

“Shaggydog,” he replied promptly. He pulled back from the scope and, still leaning over her lap, grinned at the look on her face. Before she could demand he take this seriously, he explained: “It was what I named my first and only dog. I was four.”

“Oh.” She knew the story probably wasn't going to have a happy ending, but she asked anyway. “What happened to Shaggydog?”

He flinched. It was just a fraction of a second, but his face was so close to hers she couldn’t miss it.

“Died,” he said shortly. “My father didn’t believe that lions required the company of dogs.”

She decided not to pursue it further. Instead she mumbled, “Shaggydog it is,” and wrote the name down in her field notes.

* * *

It was the next day when Brienne came back into the tent, removed her gloves and huffed in frustration.

“Lady doesn’t trust me.”

Jaime looked up from the movie he’d downloaded to his pad. “Lady?”

“The mom.”

“You were going to give me shit about Shaggydog and you named the mom _Lady?_ ”

“Lady has dignity,” Brienne replies, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin.

“I was four! I couldn’t even pronounce dignity,” he protested, and she surprised them both by laughing. The mental image of a small boy with blonde curls stumbling over the pronunciation of the word dignity was too adorable.

Suddenly she realized she was grinning at him, not bothering to hide her big horsey teeth or trying to curb her enthusiasm. And he was grinning back, his eyes sparkling as if they now shared some secret or inside joke. A swooping feeling took hold of her stomach because it felt _good_ to laugh with him like this. She felt warm and accepted. He was so handsome and his smile felt too much like approval.

She slammed the lid down on that can of worms fast. She decided right then that she was not going to get a crush on Jaime Lannister. She _was not._ Her grin disappeared.

“I need to build a blind,” she said, turning away from him.

“Alright.” Jaime sets aside his pad and stands up. Then he looks at her expectantly.

“You’re coming along?” She hadn’t expected him to want to spend the afternoon hauling stones around.

“The whole point of this was to see wild wolves,” he said in tones of exaggerated patience. “Why wouldn’t I come along?”

“I thought the point was to annoy me to the verge of homicide.”

He chuckled a little. “There can be more than one point. Lead the way, wench. We may not have to worry about losing daylight up here but my offer to help won’t stand forever.”

It was heavy work. They began by searching out flat stones from the rocky hilltops and hauling them back to a good vantage point. Then they started stacking them. This led to bickering, which led to glaring, which led to Brienne realizing very suddenly that she was less than two inches from Jaime’s face, whisper-yelling at him so as not to disturb the wolves.

“How can we be arguing about stacking rocks!” she snapped, tossing her hands up in frustration.

“It’s easy when you’re trying to work with the most obstinate wench in all of Westeros,” Jaime hissed back. “Gods, woman—just let me finish. I’ll leave you a hole for the scope.”

“ _Fine_.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten silently. “Good. Fine.”

While he finished building the blind, Brienne prepared her camera and reapplied her sunscreen. Then she handed the tube of cream to him and settled down behind the short rock wall. She pointed her scope out of the window he’d left and did her best to get comfortable. Jaime settled beside her, still grumbling to himself. She tuned him out and began her observations.

“The pups are with Grey Wind. He must be letting Lady take a break. There’s no sign of Ghost.” She scribbled notes in her little book without pulling away from the camera. “Dad’s being very patient with them. Want to take a look?”

It was a peace offering. Or as close to one as Brienne was going to manage at the moment. Jaime blew out a long breath through his nose, then nodded and scooted closer. He peered through the camera at the direwolves, and within a moment or two he was smiling in spite of himself. The pups were hard to resist.

So, for that matter, was Jaime. The sun glinted off of his wavy hair, he had a generous dusting of stubble along that razor sharp jaw of his, and the clean lines of his brow and nose had to be a sculptor’s dream. She was close enough to smell the sweat from his earlier exertions, but he also still smelled like his expensive soap. And those shoulders...

Margaery’s comments about ideas for keeping warm came back to her. Brienne very deliberately redirected her thoughts. She had to keep it together or this was going to be a long, miserable excursion.


End file.
